Fallacies of Normalcy
by Sandylee007
Summary: While trying to recover from a yet another rough night, Reid wonders just how much more of this he'll be able to take.         VERY mild slash          maleOCxReid        mentions of abuse      A POTENTIAL FIVESHOT
1. Prologue

A/N: I was trying to write the second chapter for another story when I had a nasty block in the way. This fic took over my head a few days ago, and so… Here it is. (smirks sheepishly)

First off, I have no opinion over whether Reid is bi or not – all I know is that he's totally swept me off my feet and I wouldn't care even if he was a eunuch. (grins) I just… felt like playing around this idea, a little bit.

WARNING: VERY mild slash, mentions of abuse, mature themes… Eh, I'm stopping right here before I scare you all away.

Awkay, I think I've been stalling long enough. (inhales deeply) I hope, from the bottom of my heart, that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

_**Fallacies of Normalcy**_

* * *

All the emotions twirling inside Dr. Spencer Reid were locked into his eyes as they examined the man standing by the bathroom's doorway. With his eidetic memory it was easy – all _too easy_ – to imprint a picture of the other man, including that expression of utter remorse and sadness in those eyes.

Judging by any standard whatsoever, Lucas Reichton was a very attractive man. At the age of thiry-five the other man looked at least five years younger. Lucas was tall, at least four inches taller than Spencer, and had a body any other man would've been jealous of. Perfectly messy, short dark hair and almost black eyes made the picture perfect. As ashamed as admitting such made him, Spencer had to confess that Lucas' appearance was what first caught his eye. After all he was only human. What truly got under his skin, however, was the other man's smile. It'd seeped through his system faster and with more power than any drug ever could.

Was it love? Lust? Obsession? Him being needy? Spencer didn't know anymore. And at the moment he didn't really manage to care.

He was too tired to care about anything, to feel anything. It was a bliss, really.

"Spencer, I…" Lucas' voice was soft, earnest. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Every word most definitely came from the man's heart. "I wasn't supposed to…" The words faded away. Not that they would've been necessary, anyway.

Spencer closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a bit like he'd been held underwater. "I'm fine", he murmured mechanically, his voice far from convincing.

Lucas was silent for the longest time. "You shouldn't be."

Spencer knew that. Of course he understood that much, especially considering his IQ – just like he'd known much too clearly from the age of twelve that both genders appealed to him. Flashes popped into his mind like photographs, making him shiver.

Lucas' hand held against his throat, the look in those dark eyes making Spencer _sure_ that he was going to _die_.

The punch that sent his head spinning.

His body flying across the room, finally hitting the corner of a cupboard so that he unleashed a cry of pain.

The worst part, however, was what Spencer _couldn't_ remember.

No matter how hard he tried Spencer couldn't remember what he'd said or done this time to unleash the powers of hell on himself. What had he done to deserve this?

Slowly, as though it'd been the hardest task in the world, Spencer opened his eyes halfway and looked at his hands. They were balled in his lap as he sat on a toilet seat. His knuckles had turned white as he fought with himself, fought so very hard against something he couldn't even name. Statistics flew through Spencer's head.

In the United States roughly 835 000 men are victims of physical violence by an intimate per year.

Every 20,6 minutes another man in Washington is battered.

In 2000, 440 men were killed by an intimate partner. In recent years an intimate partner killed approximately 4% of male murder victims.

Spencer didn't want to be _or_ become a part of those statistics. But wanting was far from actually doing something about it.

Spencer's whole body jolted when Lucas touched his shoulder. "You're shivering." There was genuine concern, which made the whole scene all the more twisted, sickening. The hand was pulled away. "Are you cold?"

Spencer shook his head, not finding it from him to speak.

Lucas gave a slightly shuddering, long sigh. "Maybe I should take you to a doctor. What if…?"

Spencer shook his head again, this time forcefully. The night before and this morning had already been pure hell. Seeing a doctor was _the last_ thing he wanted. "I'm fine", he assured, this time a bit more convincingly. He coaxed himself into meeting Lucas' eyes. "I just need a moment to breathe, that's all. Just one moment."

Lucas nodded, then – very tentatively, as if he'd been made of glass – wrapped his arms around Spencer, pulling the genius tightly to his chest and burying his face into the brunet's hair. This time it was the older man's body shivering.

Closing his eyes again Spencer allowed himself to be held, and tried not to wince when the embrace irritated something damaged. With a deep, hungry inhale he filled his mind with Lucas' scent and felt a bit dizzy.

Right then Spencer found himself wondering if he was the selfish one of them for not having the strength to just cut this, to walk away. For needing this affection, these good moments, too much to throw it all away.

"It's okay", Lucas murmured into his ear, trying to convince which one of them neither knew. "Everything's going to be okay, I promise. I'll make things right this time around."

And Spencer believed, because he wanted to – _needed_ to. He believed, although after over eighty times of being let down it was hard.

Spencer didn't know how long they spent there in each other's arms until he spoke softly. "I'm… gonna need some makeup."

Lucas nodded and disappeared. In a few moment the man appeared with a tube of foundation. Flashing the other a thin smile ('_I'm okay, honestly_') and starting the work of hiding the damage Spencer was surprised to discover how empty the tube was.

It was in moments like this Spencer wondered how much more of this he could take. For a couple of seconds he even wondered if this was all worth it, although he regretted it right away.

Once he was done Spencer sat there somewhat dazedly, eyeing his reflection with a blank expression. It was a miracle, really, that he'd managed to hide the quite glorious shiner that covered almost one third of the left side of his face.

_Practice makes perfect_, he concluded with a hint of bitterness.

Lucas gave him a pale smile of relief, appearing uncertain if it was okay to touch him. "You managed to get rid of it." The man brushed his hair tentatively with two fingers. "You're just as pretty as always."

For some reason those words made Spencer feel sick to his stomach. "Yeah." His voice had a hollow sidetone. "Everything's okay."

They didn't say anything else while Spencer got everything done, working on autopilot. There were no words or actions of affection, not even when he walked out of the door and headed to work.

And once again they were stuck on repeat.

It wasn't until he sat into his car adrenaline finally faded away, letting Spencer feel all the ache – inside and out. And there, as he was all alone, came the tears.

* * *

Spencer didn't need his praised memory to recall the time when he'd actually enjoyed going to work. His team was still important to him, of course – _nothing_ would ever change the fact that they'd always be his second family. What made things tricky were all those things he could never let BAU find out.

They'd never understand, or accept. How could they when even he didn't sometimes? Besides, this wasn't their mess to handle.

Spencer managed a wave and a somewhat frail smile towards JJ, who was in her office, and planned on diving to the safety of his own desk until Derek Morgan was stood directly before him.

Spencer tried to smile again, but had a feeling that it didn't come out right. "Uh… Hey."

Derek frowned, clearly trying to piece things together. "What were _you _doing last night?"

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, much too aware of the slightest tremble. "I just didn't sleep well, that's all", he muttered, trying to maintain eye contact.

Derek grinned a bit. "I see. Did you have a hot date, Pretty Boy?"

Usually Spencer would've blushed at those words but now… He couldn't even name what crossed his face for a millisecond before he mumbled something incoherent.

He really wished everyone would stop calling him pretty.

Derek's mouth opened but the man never got the chance to utter a sound. Because just then Emily Prentiss and David Rossi showed up, and the office filled with its usual life. To Spencer the normalcy was a bliss, and he let it wrap around him like a safety blanket. His smile wasn't so stiff anymore.

Was it really so bad, he mused while catching himself blabbering statistics and random facts, to live in something else than a nightmare for a few hours?

* * *

What Reid didn't notice was the look Derek exchanged with Aaron Hotchner, who was standing by the doorway of his office. Both men had identical frowns upon their faces.

Words weren't needed to express what was being said between them.

* * *

**_End._**

* * *

A/N: Uh… That was a bit… different, soooo…. (takes a deep breath and gulps nervously) Was that any good, at all?

PLEASE, do leave a review and let me know your thoughts! I'd be absolutely thrilled to hear from you. (looks hopefully)

Thank you so much for reading this! Who knows, maybe I'll see you guys later.

Take care!


	2. Damages

A/N: (chuckles) After reading through your reviews and doing some soul-searching, I decided that perhaps this story needs to continue. What do you say if I made a five shot out of this?

Before letting you get to the second chapter… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all those incredibly inspiring reviews! You've done miracles to my inspiration, so thank you! (hugs)

Awkay. (takes a deep breath) Let's get on with the story, shall we? I really hope you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

**_CHAPTER 1: Damages_**

* * *

_One Month Later_

* * *

Reid had always hated the medical inspections that were a necessary yet very unpleasant part of his job. He rarely got any lectures from the doctor, though. His heart and lungs were fine, his eyesight and hearing left nothing to be desired. (They were happy as long as he swore to use contacts or glasses whenever necessary.) His bloodwork also always came back okay (what now his hemoglobin was a bit on the lower side). The one thing doctors always complained about was his weight, which – as he was willing to admit – could've been several pounds more. There was no use in trying to explain that no matter how much he ate he just couldn't put any 'flesh on his bones', as one doctor put it.

This time, however, weighing wasn't Reid's greatest concern. He swallowed thickly as the rather young female doctor with long, neatly tied red hair and brown, eye-glass covered eyes wrote down something before focusing on him. "I'm sure you know how this goes, Dr. Reid." Without a doubt seeing the look in his eyes and misreading the reason she tried to hide a smile. "Trust me, you won't be able to show me anything I haven't seen before."

Reid took a deep breath and wasted a moment on praying that something would stop this before surrendering under his fate. His movements slow and awkward, he started getting undressed.

Before this inevitable moment Reid had been hoping – quite childishly – that the doctor would be too busy or uncaring to notice what he'd fought to hide. He didn't have such luck, not with Dr. Prue Thompson. The frown on her face grew deeper and deeper as her eyes scanned through the bruises on his bare upper body. There was one decorating the left side of his chest (from a harsh shove that'd sent him against the wall), another two even less subtle ones glowing on the pale skin of his side and stomach (from kicks that'd left him breathless for several moments) and some more bruising circling his left arm, right below elbow (from when Lucas had held him and begged him not to leave).

Time stood as Dr. Thompson stared, then looked up at his face from which he'd been careful to hide the traces of damage. "Have you… had a harsh mission recently?"

Reid was almost ridiculously relieved about the loophole. He tried to smile and nodded, slightly more eagerly than he'd meant to. Sometimes he forgot how careful he had to be, how fragile the disguise around his secret was. "I attract psychopaths, I guess."

Dr. Thompson nodded slowly, and even with the best of wills he couldn't tell her if she believed him or not. He'd always been a bad liar. "Have you been examined afterwards? I'm worried about the chance of fractured or broken bones."

"I'm fine", he assured her quickly, praying that this torture would be over soon. "They don't even hurt anymore." It was a lie, and he was much too sure neither bought it.

Dr. Thompson looked at him for a couple of moments, then took a hold of her stethoscope. "Let me listen to your breathing, okay?"

Feeling wary and self-conscious Reid leaned forward reluctantly. He was much too aware of the bruises marring his back. And sure enough the other doctor surveyed the damage for a mighty while before starting her work.

After much too long Dr. Thompson was finally finished. Reid observed her like a wild animal keeping an eye on a possible predator as she made her way to her desk. "I don't think you have any broken ribs and your breathing's fine, but that bruising looks pretty nasty. If you have difficulties with breathing go to a doctor right away, understood?" Receiving a slightly guarded nod from him she started typing something to her computer. "I'm giving you a prescription for some painkillers, because I don't believe you're not in any pain." As soon as she handed the prescription to Reid and he accepted it he knew he'd never take that medication. It'd only cause problems.

For the rest of the appointment Reid felt detached, like it'd been somebody else's body Dr. Thompson examined, like it'd been someone else answering to her endless questions.

And then it was over. As soon as he had the permission to Reid got dressed properly, grabbed his bag and all but dashed towards the door.

Just before he made it out and to safety Dr. Thompson spoke once more. "Oh, and Dr. Reid?" Her eyes were very serious. "Be careful. You're one of my favorite patients. I'd hate to see even more bruises on you."

Once more Reid fought to maintain a relatively happy expression as he waved a bit, then escaped from the office.

* * *

Ever since the beginning of his career Hotch had been quick to answer his phone. He made no exception that Tuesday afternoon. "Yes?"

"_You've asked me report if I have any… concerns regarding one of your team-members._" Dr. Thompson's voice was stiff, gave him a warning long before the words. "_I can't tell you anything about what I've seen or heard in my office. But… Lately, I've been paying attention to Dr. Reid. Based on what I've put together, I'd say it's wise to keep a closer eye on him, for now._"

Hotch's blood ran cold, and he wrapped one arm around himself while his expression darkened. "I see."

"_I just thought you'd like to know. I know how much you care about your team._"

Hotch finished the phone-call, then drifted deep into his thoughts while staring at the opposite wall of his office like it'd been the soul cause of all his troubles.

What, exactly, had Reid gotten himself into? And how deep into the mess had the youngest member of his team fallen?

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock. Only years of experience on liars hinted Hotch that there was something wrong with the look in Reid's eyes as the young man entered. "I took care of the paperwork", the younger man explained, showing him a file.

Hotch blinked once, then accepted the offering with a nod of appreciation. "We only just came home from the mission yesterday", he pointed out. "It could've waited."

Reid's smile was skillfully created, but not quite enough. "I just… needed something for my head to work on."

Hotch didn't know how to comment that, how to voice his thoughts without startling the young genius even deeper into his shell. And so he squeezed his mouth into a tight line, watching as Reid prepared to leave.

Just before the younger man left he spoke. "Reid." He waited until the brunet turned towards him. "If there's anything wrong, at all, you can tell me. You know that, right?"

The look that appeared to Reid's face was almost enough to fool him. _Almost._ "Why would anything be wrong?" The young man waved curtly. "See you tomorrow." In a matter of seconds the door opened and closed between them.

Looking at the closed door Hotch breathed in deeply, his eyes darkening.

He'd always relied on his instincts. Today he hated the fact that most often his assumptions were correct.

* * *

Morgan was sending his date a text message to say just how happy he was about the very romantic meeting that'd take place in a couple of hours when he spotted Reid. A frown appeared to his face when he watched how the younger man slumped behind his own desk with a soft groan. The brunet was rubbing the bridge of his nose and appeared rather tired. "You work way too much for your own good", he commented. "You're turning into Hotch."

Reid shrugged and sunk deeper into his chair. The brunet kept rubbing the bridge of his nose persistently, almost desperately. Clearly it wasn't helping any. "I'm… not in a hurry to get anywhere, so I thought I should get rid of some unfinished work."

Morgan felt some worry-mixed sympathy as he looked at the poor kid. "If the headache's that bad one Aspirin wouldn't do any harm."

Reid shook his head quickly, far too quickly. "It's okay – I've already dealt with this since the morning. Besides, the medication may cause nausea and it's not good for the stomach, either. So I'll pass."

Despite everything Morgan felt tempted to smile. Trust Reid to shoot out facts and statistics even when he was in pain. A jolt of alarm, however, rapidly wiped away everything else as the young genius swayed slightly.

Morgan was up faster than his head would've liked. Even in the current situation he noticed with surprise how Reid stiffened as he put a hand to the younger man's shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?" It was then he noticed something the brunet's hair almost managed to disguise. A bump, right in the back of Reid'd head. A shiver that also held rage shot through him. Another injury they'd failed to protect their youngest from. When the hell had this even happened? "Where the heck did you get this from?"

"I ran into a kitchen closet." Reid managed to flash him a tiny, brave smile. "I'm fine."

'Damn, Pretty Boy, you should've at least tried to come up with something a bit more convincing', Morgan felt tempted to snarl. It took his all to control his tongue and temper. He grit his teeth before speaking out loud. "I'm taking you home – there's no way in hell I'm letting you drive." He went on as soon as Reid's mouth opened. "And I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."

Accepting his defeat with a soundless yet visible sigh, Reid took his bag.

* * *

Reid didn't register much of the drive towards his home. There was atypically lot of traffic, so the journey took longer than it should've. Morgan did most of the talking, which was a surprising twist. Usually Reid was the most talkative member of their team.

Morgan gave him a very evaluative, almost worried look when the car jolted to a stop before a block of flats. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

For a moment – just a moment – Reid felt eager to confess that he _wasn't_ okay. That the last thing he wanted was to go home, to face the shadows lurking there. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from asking the older man to take him elsewhere, anywhere.

But in the end he smiled, or at least tried to. "Yeah. After some coffee I'll be as good as new."

Morgan didn't appear fully convinced. "You can call me anytime, okay?"

Once again Reid was reminded of just how protective of him Morgan could be. He had no idea how to feel about it. "Yeah. I know." So saying he climbed out of the car with unexpected difficulty. "See you tomorrow."

Reid watched as Morgan drove away suspiciously slowly, and for a moment felt the need to signal the man to stop. This would've been the perfect opportunity to fix things. His whole reason begged him to stop this.

But nonetheless Reid took a deep breath, then turned and walked into the house, starting to make his way towards the dreaded door.

Lucas was sitting on the couch as he walked in. It wouldn't have required Reid's IQ or FBI-training to consider the look in the other man's eyes dangerous. "Weren't you supposed to be home two hours ago?"

Reid shrugged and attempted to keep his expression neutral despite the fact that his heart was racing as it knew to expect what was to come. "I had paperwork."

Lucas shook his head while getting up. The man's eyes almost narrowed. "Bullshit. You didn't want to come home, did you?"

For once, for just this once, Reid wished he would've been able to lie properly. Instead he kept his mouth tightly shut and stared at Lucas with such feral terror that can sometimes be seen in the animals of the wild.

And then, for once that day, something happened quickly. Before Reid could do more than pull in a hasty gasp he'd been hurled against the wall and Lucas' hands were around his throat. The other man's hold was so tight that for a moment the brunet feared his windpipe might be damaged.

Once again Reid's horrified mind assaulted him with facts.

Depending on how the strangling is performed, it may compress the airway, interfere with the flow of blood in the neck, or work as a combination of the two. As a result manual strangulation may damage the larynx and fracture the hyoid or other bones in the neck.

In cases of airway compression, manual strangling leads to the frightening sensation of air hunger and may induce violent struggling.

Unconsciousness occurs approximately 10 seconds after choking.

It took a long moment before Reid's chaotic head took in that the horrendous, wheezing noise was actually coming from him, along with the feeble, barely audible pants. "'ease…!" He fought, tried to push away the hands squashing his throat, but his efforts were futile.

It was hard to think straight, let alone count, but Reid was fairly sure he had around five seconds left. The way everything was starting to spin suggested even less.

His eyes – wide, clouded and filled with sheer terror for his life – locked with Lucas' once more, crying out when his voice couldn't.

And then the world turned dark.

* * *

Lucas didn't even blink until Reid's eyes closed and the brunet went completely limp in his hold. He unleashed a barely human cry, instantly releasing his hold on the younger man as though the other's skin had burned. He watched with wide, rapidly tearing up eyes as Reid fell down and lay absolutely still.

For a second or two Lucas just stared, a couple of tears rolling down his cheeks. Then he bolted into the bathroom and threw up violently, leaving Reid to the floor.

* * *

As Reid opened his eyes slowly, weighed down by exhaustion, the very first sensation that came over him was pain. His throat had never been as sore as it was then and a light whimper escaped when he brought a gentle hand to his Adam's apple.

Was something broken? Was that why his breathing still wheezed?

Carefully, still not trusting his head, Reid pushed himself into a sitting position. He felt a hint of relief upon discovering that Lucas had left. It was quite often the other man headed to a bar after… confrontations like this.

Right now he wasn't ready to face Lucas.

Still moving cautiously Reid pushed himself up and grabbed the side of the sofa when the world spun uncomfortably for a few moments. Just when the view around him refocused the doorbell chimed loudly, the sound echoing through the apartment.

Reid stiffened, his eyes widening slightly. Lucas _never_ forgot his keys, and Reid really wasn't in the mood for seeing anyone.

_Go away_, he begged mentally, almost holding his breath to avoid making a sound. _Please, just go away._

The doorbell rang once more, and several moments passed before the persistent intruder finally gave up and walked away. As the sounds of steps died out Spencer let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and slumped to the couch.

At the moment he was utterly exhausted, and the pain in his throat seemed to grow stubbornly instead of fading away. And only one thought fit into Reid's head.

When, exactly, did his life turn out this way?

* * *

In the hallway Morgan glanced towards Reid's door once more with a frown on his face. As much as he hated it, it looked like he'd been right.

Something was _wrong_. Badly.

That thought echoing in his head he took his cell-phone and dialed numbers. The answer came rapidly. "We need to talk."

* * *

Late evening stretched to night. Reid stayed up until close to midnight, his thoughts spinning in a mess he couldn't make any sense to. Eventually the headache he'd been suffering from earlier returned tenfold, and he decided to go to bed.

Although he wasn't quite ready to admit it to himself he was glad Lucas didn't come home. He wasn't ready to face the man, to process the newest humiliation, just yet.

It was almost three in the morning when Reid woke up to the sound of the door opening. For some reason he felt incredibly cold as he lay absolutely still, careful not to give any signs that would've suggested he was awake.

He was scared, fed up, angry and confused. He _did not_ want the talk Lucas was most likely craving. He wasn't ready to say 'It's okay' and 'I'm fine', not yet.

Lucas stumbled, and Reid felt his stomach knot with disgust when the reek of alcohol found him. The bed dipped as Lucas sat, and it took all Reid had not to stiffen when the other man ran a clumsy hand from his hair down to his bruised cheek. "I'm sorry." The slurred words were barely audible. Something that sounded suspiciously lot like a sob followed. "Fuck, Spence… I'm so sorry."

Reid felt a shockwave of revulsion, and feared it could be seen from his face.

Couldn't Lucas understand that he wasn't ready to listen to those words? That he just didn't have the strength to carry both their emotional load? That he was sick and tired of all this? Tonight even the usual lies both he and Lucas whispered ('This was the last time', 'Everything's going to work out', 'We´ll be fine') didn't bring him comfort.

Lay there with Lucas touching him, Reid was somewhat confused to discover that he was completely, utterly numb. It was a surprise after all the overwhelmingly strong emotions he'd felt earlier that day.

He didn't know how long Lucas sat there looking at him until the man finally took his place on the other side of the bed and lay down. In a few moments light snoring announced that the older man was fast asleep.

Reid lay down as well, listening to the sounds coming from Lucas, until something close to a desperate need washed over him. Inhaling sharply he pushed himself into a sitting position, then took his cell-phone that'd been abandoned to a nearby nightstand. In a matter of seconds Reid found himself face to face with something he hadn't expected.

Morgan's name and number stared back at him from the screen, as though screaming at him. His finger twitched with anticipation to press 'call'.

Just a simple press of a button, and this nightmare would be all over. Just one phone-call. It sounded so easy.

At least a full minute passed before Reid finally made his decision. Taking a deep breath he put the cell-phone away and lay down once more, fighting against the stinging sensation in his eyes. As soon as sleeping Lucas sensed his warmth the man shifted and wrapped one arm around him. Reid accepted the embrace although it made him shiver.

Reid didn't get any sleep that night.

* * *

TBC, or not?

* * *

**POLL** (because I'd love it if you decided this one – I can't, and I want to hear you out on a matter this… big): What do you think – should there be… romantic vibrations between Reid and Morgan? I'm not saying it'd even go as far as kissing or holding hands romantically, but still. More romance, or not? I'm comfortable either way, so it's honestly your call! **VOTE NOW THAT YOU'VE GOT THE CHANCE TO MAKE THE DIFFERENCE!**

* * *

A/N: So, that's how the story went on. (takes a deep breath)

What do you say, guys? I've got a plan for three more chapters. Would you like to read them, or should I leave the story here?

**PLEASE**, share your thoughts with me! This story is a touch to a land less explored for me, so hearing from you would mean the world to me. (gives puppy's eyes)

Until next time, I hope!

Take care!


	3. Out of Control

A/N: Heh, I'm already baaack! It looks like this story has gained a life of its own. Be that a good thing or bad… (grins sheepishly)

First off, thank you so much for all those reviews! (hugs) You wouldn't believe how happy I was to discover how many of you enjoyed the previous chapter. It DEFINITELY adds boost to my inspiration! (hugs again) THANK YOU!

Ah, and yes – also thank you for voting! You definitely made clearing out my head easier and I'm grateful for that. I really hope you'll be pleased with the conclusion I pulled up.

Awkay, because the battery of my laptop is dying I've gotta get on with the story. (inhales deeply) I truly hope you'll enjoy this one!

* * *

**_CHAPTER 2: Out of Control_**

* * *

The following morning dawned, slowly yet surely. Deciding that there was no reason to waste time in the bed Reid pushed himself up, distanced with surprising ease from Lucas' warmth and stood up.

Reid remained by the bed for a moment, listening to the sounds Lucas emitted in his sleep and fighting the urge to slip back under the covers, until he finally found his will once more. Just this once not looking back Reid walked out of the room and locked himself into the bathroom.

Reid closed his eyes as almost painfully hot water washed over him, breathing a bit more sharply than usual. The water ran gently over the bruises, its path crossing every single one of the shame marks. And in a few moments Reid managed to feel comfortingly numb once more.

For a moment of bliss it was deviously easy to forget about _everything_, to slip into a comforting oblivion where no bruises existed.

Once more Reid pulled as much air as he could into his lungs, finally able to breathe freely. And then he turned off the shower, shivering as cold air immediately sneaked in the caress his body. His silly little flight was over.

Moving in some sort of a fog – as though his mind had been separated from his body – Reid got dressed, combed his hair with a surprisingly steady hand and walked out of the bathroom like it'd been a huge feat.

Reid made it to the kitchen before his autopilot failed and he froze, feeling cold once more.

Apparently Lucas had woken up to him leaving the bed. Because the man was sitting behind a table, a luxurious breakfast sitting on the table before the older man.

It took a moment before Lucas noticed him. The man's eyes were dangerously close to those warm ones that'd once charmed him. "Happy anniversary", the older man said in a quiet, husky tone.

Not sure how he should react to this unexpected twist of things, Reid approached and sat down slowly, cautiously. "Thanks", was what he managed in the end, with a rather clumsy expression that looked between a smile and a grimace.

Lucas, clearly failing to notice the turmoil of emotions inside him, smiled a little. And for some reason the warmth radiating from the older man's eyes made Reid feel like he'd been strangled all over again.

The morning slipped on in almost total silence, with a dream-like hue surrounding it.

* * *

_Six Weeks Later_

* * *

Reid wasn't the type to say he _hated_ something lightly. But he did hate hospitals, from the deepest bottom of his heart. And he particularly disliked being a patient.

He fought back a deep sigh and a wince when when Dr. Prue Thompson kept poking his head like it'd been the most interesting thing on earth. "I'm fine", he repeated for the about a millionth time, fighting to keep his tone calm. This time he couldn't keep his expression in control when Dr. Thompson touched the precisely right spot. "The unsub gave me a slight bang to the head when I wasn't paying attention. But I don't have headache, nausea, dizziness or problems with my eyesight." He didn't feel like mentioning that the last thing he remembered was entering that stupid, creepy house and hearing… Honestly, he didn't know what.

JJ – who'd been the only team member able to accompany him while the others were still trying to catch the unsub – gave him a stern look. "Spence, you were unconscious for ten minutes and drowsy for almost an hour after that. You didn't look _fine_ to me."

Dr. Thompson also didn't appear all that impressed by his persistent convincing. "I'm almost sure you have a concussion. _And_ I can promise you that as soon as your head settles a bit you'll have one hell of a headache." She focused on her portable computer for a moment, typing something. "I'm keeping you here for overnight, just to be sure."

Reid opened his mouth for a protest until a much too familiar voice met his ears, making his stomach knot and turn uncomfortably warm. "What if a medical doctor is there to keep an eye on him?" Looking slowly towards the room's doorway Reid saw Lucas stood there. The man flashed a pleasant smile at confused looking JJ and Dr. Thompson. "I'm Dr. Lucas Reichton, I'm Dr. Reid's personal doctor. I know how uncomfortable he is with hospitals, and I'll be able to keep an eye on him at his home for tonight."

Dr. Thompson frowned, and for this one forbidden moment Reid felt something close to hope when seeing the mistrust in her eyes. "I see." The woman's eyes hardened still. "Dr. Reichton, could I have a word with you?"

Reid was beyond thrilled the women didn't see the swift look Lucas darted his way. Because it left nothing to be questioned.

As soon as the doctors had left Reid looked reluctantly towards JJ. He licked his lips and ran a restless hand through his hair when finding her looking back. "It's… I…" Words died into his throat and he looked away, feeling sick to his stomach. This was exactly the conversation he'd _never _wanted to have, with any of his team mates.

To his surprise JJ's voice was soft. "Spence, it's okay." Looking towards her with a somewhat stunned expression he found her smiling. "As long as he makes you happy it's okay. So wipe that look from your face."  
Reid tried to smile but failed miserably. His throat was very scratchy all of a sudden. "I…" He cleared his throat and inhaled. "Thanks."

JJ smiled, then grew a lot more solemn. "He _does_ make you happy, right?"

Reid had absolutely no idea how to answer that one. He bit his lip so hard it almost bled and tried to relax in his bed, casting his eyes towards the ceiling. It was filthy. "I just… want to get out of here", he muttered in the end.

JJ remained silent, but Reid could _sense_ how badly she would've wanted to press further. And a tiny part of him wished, _pleaded_ her to.

She kept her quiet. So did he.

* * *

In the hallway Dr. Thompson made sure no one was there to hear before speaking to her colleague. "Dr. Reichton… As Reid's personal doctor I'm sure you're aware of the bruises he's been obtaining. " She went on although his eyes would've made almost anyone back down. "I don't want to accuse anyone, much less press my patient any further with asking questions he's adamant not to answer. So I'm turning to you. Is Dr. Reid in a trouble I should be aware of?"

She could've sworn that for a moment Dr. Reichton's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe that's any of your concern."

She frowned, folding her arms although it gave a blow to her authority. She couldn't control herself around this man, and it irked her. "I'm also his doctor, Dr. Reichton. I have the right to know."

The degrading smile that appeared to Dr. Reichton's face was one of the most chilling things she'd ever seen. "Let me assure you, Dr. Thompson, that Spencer is in good hands. I'm taking him home and looking after him. So you have nothing to worry about." With that the man turned and started his walk towards Reid's room, clearly sealing the conversation. "Have a good day."

A deep frown remained on Dr. Thompson's face as she watched the man's retreating back, all her instincts tingling.

She'd never felt as cold in her life.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

* * *

Time flew by, another mission followed the previous one. Life went on like nothing out of ordinary was going on.

The fairytale land remained intact until one afternoon.

"This one's from Baltimore. The victim's a John Doe, age approximately 28, killed by strangling", JJ told them, her voice carefully controlled. She showed them the picture of a dark-haired male whose face was so covered in bruises that it was difficult to imagine what he'd looked like. "He'd clearly been beaten up severely before his death – there was bruising from kicks and punches all over his body. The hardest hits had been aimed at his head. According to his autopsy report his cheekbone had been fractured and several of his teeth had been cracked. The force of the strangling had practically crushed his windpipe"

Rossi's eyes narrowed slightly. "Did the bastard torture him?"

JJ swallowed. "There were no defence wounds or signs that he would've been strapped. And it looks like the damage was done over an extensive period of time." Her eyes, not quite managing to distinguish what she was feeling, strayed towards the bruising on the victim's neck. "It's unclear whether the rest of the injuries have anything to do with the actual local police was guessing this could be a case of violence in intimate relationship."

"Shit…", slipped through Morgan's lips.

Exactly a blink later was nearly startled by the sound of a chair screeching furiously against the floor. Looking up with surprise they frowned when seeing Reid practically dashing out of the room. The young man's back was to them, so they couldn't see his face, but the stiffness of his shoulders and steps said enough.

"Reid?" Hotch inquired.

"Sorry", was all the young genius mustered. "I… I'll be back in a bit." So saying he was already out.

Morgan hesitated for only a moment before getting up and going after Reid.

"Hotch." Rossi's eyes were demanding, hard. "What the heck is going on?"

Hotch fought the urge to sigh while glancing towards the room's door. He really wished he'd had an answer.

It took a while before Morgan managed to find Reid from the restroom. A tremor crossed his body as he observed how the youngest member of the team pulled in hungry, desperate breaths. Reid's face and knuckles had barely any color when the brunet squeezed the porcelain washbasin bowl as hard as he possibly could.

A panic attack, Morgan identified in an instant.

He was just wondering if he should touch the younger man – to offer some kind of physical contact – when Reid stiffened completely. For a moment he was almost sure the genius would throw up but then the brunet relaxed, almost closed his eyes. Whatever Reid had just fought with, it'd clearly taken a lot out of him.

It was around then Reid noticed him. The younger man's eyes widened for a fleeting second. "Could you just… leave me alone?"

Morgan shook his head, feeling a fiery bout of determination. They'd all left Reid alone for too damn long. "No chance, kid." He lay a hand to Reid's shoulder and frowned at how the other man shuddered at the contact.

Morgan wasn't sure if he wanted to see, if he really wanted to face just how much their team had ignored. But he came to a conclusion that _someone_ had to. And so – before Reid could do a thing to stop him – he shifted fabric so that he got a good luck of Reid's upper arm. He felt like crying out.

There, sneering back at him, was almost black bruising. Clearly the result of a violent attack.

Morgan was infamous for his temper. But he'd _never_ felt the kind of fury he did then, and it must've radiated from his eyes when they met Reid's. "Who the hell did this to you?"

Reid swallowed thickly, dryly. Something close to fear was written all over the man's face. "It's nothing."

"Reid." Morgan fought – fought so very hard – to keep his voice from shaking, but had a sinking feeling he failed. "This sure as hell isn't _nothing_!" Even with the risk that he was making a huge mistake he grabbed one of the brunet's utterly stiff shoulders. With some struggle he managed to make the younger man turn towards the mirror. "Take a look at yourself! This… This isn't okay! You can't…!"

Morgan's rant was cut short when he took in the look on Reid's face, the moisture shimmering in the younger man's eyes. The young genius seemed to be shivering violently, the man's shoulder still in his firm hold.

And suddenly Morgan realized that there wasn't anything he could've said Reid hadn't already screamed at himself.

Morgan swallowed thickly, feeling absolutely apoplectic and hepless, _useless_. He opened his mouth, but in the end nothing came out. Not like any words would've been necessary, though. No words would erase the damage that'd already been done.

So Morgan gave Reid close to ten minutes, his stomach knotting and twisting painfully as he watched the young genius fighting to pull himself together once more. Eventually Reid took a deep, badly shuddering breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When the younger man opened his eyes again the haunted look from before was gone, leaving behind only immense exhaustion. Morgan had no idea how to feel about the change.

He swallowed and hoped his voice wouldn't sound off before talking. "Are you ready to go out?"

Reid nodded somewhat sharply before looking at him through the mirror. Despite all his experiences Morgan found it hard not to look away. The brunet's voice was barely above a whisper when it finally came out. "Don't tell the others."

Morgan frowned, feeling cold settling in. "Reid…!"

"Please!" It was still nothing more than a breath, but nonetheless enough to halt all objections. Reid looked away once more, towards his hands which were again squeezing the sink before the young man so hard that his knuckles had turned white. "This… This is already humiliating enough, okay? So please, don't tell them. Let me handle this."

Morgan wasn't stupid – he knew Reid needed help and fast, before he'd fall even deeper into this mess. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak a word Reid's cell-phone came to life. He'd never seen the kind of a look that appeared into the young genius' eyes. It was filled with fatigue, anger, fear and confusion.

Morgan felt every single muscle of his face tighten. "You don't have to pick up."

Reid's expression was tight and guarded as the man looked at him. "Yes, I do. Trust me, not answering would only make things worse."

Morgan was contemplating whether he should give his own honest opinion, but all his thoughts were cut short as his cell-phone also started vibrating in his pocket. He gave Reid a one more look. "Just don't do anything stupid, kid."

Reid nodded. Morgan wondered when he'd become unable to read the younger man's face.

He turned before accepting the call. He regretted the decision as soon as he heard Reid walk out of the room, talking quietly to the phone. "That was Morgan's voice…"

Less than five minutes later Morgan also exited from the room, pissed off, worried and impatient. The caller was Clooney's carer. The poor dog had started throwing up in the morning and the carer – a rather timid sixteen-year-old girl – had rushed it over to a vet. Apparently it wasn't anything serious and Clooney was already home, but she'd felt it was her duty to report.

Morgan was glad there were still conscientious people in the world, but he couldn't help cursing her timing.

Morgan found Hotch waiting for him by the conference room. The man gave him a demanding look that clearly inquired 'Well?'.

Morgan shook his head, swallowing down a breath of air. His head was really starting to hurt.

Hotch's eyes darkened for a moment, which was a fairly intimidating sigh. The man's cool posture almost faltered. "How bad is it?"

Morgan opened his mouth before realizing that they weren't alone anymore. JJ stood a couple of steps away. Her slightly widened eyes told that she knew exactly what they'd been talking about.

Before either one of the men could say a word JJ nearly whispered. "Reid… When he was in the hospital a couple of weeks ago a man named Dr. Lucas Reichton took him home." It didn't require special skills to detect that she was furious – _livid_ – with herself. "I felt that something was wrong, but I… I thought it was just my imagination."

Morgan's eyes carried a variety of emotions as they met Hotch's. "You said it yourself, weeks ago. We _have to_ do something. Let me call Garcia." Seeing his superior's hesitation he went on. "This is Reid we're talking about!"

After a couple of endless seconds Hotch finally nodded. Morgan didn't waste time when pulling out his cell-phone and hitting the numbers.

"_Hello, sweetness. You just reached the all-knowing Oracle._"

Morgan composed himself for a second. "I… need you to do me a favor. Run a background check on Lucas Reichton." He swallowed with some difficulty. "And… could you do it fast and subtly?"

"_Okay…_" Garcia sounded confused, but obeyed anyway. She spoke after a few moments. "_Your average story – grew up in a farm with his mother and father, no siblings. Lucas hasn't been a bad boy. A couple of speeding tickets and… Wait a minute._" She paused, clearly to read. "_He got fired from a hospital five years ago. Apparently he showed up to work in a hangover, and got into a fist-fight with a patient. I've got a psychologist's evaluation here. It says he's got a unstable personality. It was one of the reasons to why he was fired. The patients and colleagues both filed several complaints on him._" It sounded like she shrugged."_He's a basket case, but doesn't sound like your regular unsub. What bad has he done?_" Fortunately she went on before he had to answer. "_Hold on. Why does he have the same address as…?_"

"Thanks", Morgan interrupted her.

Before he managed to hang up Garcia spoke. "_Wait._" He heard her swallow, hard. "_Is… Is Reid in a trouble?_"

A shiver crossed Morgan. "Why would you think so?"

"_Because I can tell something's wrong._" Her voice was serious, too serious. "_And you know the statisics. When something's wrong, it's usually got something to do with Reid. So is he okay?_"

Morgan sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "I really hope so."

As soon as the phone-call was over the team exchanged long looks. At the moment no words were necessary.

Ten minutes later Reid called Hotch, saying that he wasn't feeling well and was going back home. It was the first time the brunet called in sick willingly – they'd seen him stagger to work in a fever of 104 F. Another tiny sign of just how off things were.

The others could've sworn the room's temperature had dropped several degrees.

* * *

A moment after another ticked by as Reid stood behind the door of his apartment, feeling stupid and furious with himself. Finally bracing himself and reaching out a hand towards the doorhandle he tried to remember exactly when coming back home had become something almost terrifying.

It was disturbing to discover that he couldn't remember the time before Lucas anymore.

Reid was almost surprised by how easily the door opened. Going in was a whole another matter. His legs felt heavy as a distant part of his ailing reason screamed a warning.

He barely had the time to close the door before there was a voice that sent chills down his spine. "So you talked to Morgan."

Reid turned around slowly, as though stalling would've somehow made the situation better, prevented the inevitable. Fear settled into his body, tingling in his veins, as they measured each other up with their gazes. He swallowed and licked his lips, his whole mouth having grown dry all of a sudden. "He wanted to make sure I'm alright." He felt that it was for the best to leave word 'safe' out.

If it was even possible Lucas' eyes darkened still.

_Of course he knows_, Reid reminded himself, feeling strangely detached although terror was starting to lift its head. _He always knows._

"You told him." It was a statement – accusation. Lucas eyes burned with something that didn't look human. In less than a blink the man was stood before him, all over him. One almost unbearably rough hand wrapped around Reid's throat while another one of the older man's knees pressed hard against his crotch. "Didn't I fucking tell you what'd happen if anyone found out?" The older man wasn't screaming – he rarely raised his voice. But that didn't make the tone any less intimidating. "Didn't I?"

Spencer's eyes widened, and it became hard to breathe although the hold on his throat wasn't enough to cause choking. Even with the rush of sheer terror and adrenaline he felt that now a line had been crossed. Lucas had _never_ touched him this way before. All control was gone. "I'm sorry", Reid whispered, detesting how his voice shook. A searing sensation found its way into his eyes when Lucas' knee pressed harder. _Oh God…!_ "Please, I…! I'm sorry!"

Lucas shook his head, slowly. "Don't you get it? Your sorry isn't good enough this time." The calmness on the other man's face was the unnerving type Reid had sometimes seen on the unsubs, on some very dangerous people.

But this _wasn't_ an unsub, Reid came to realize in a chilling moment of clarity. This was _Lucas_, a man who shared his apartment, his bed, who was supposed to…

Lucas used his free hand to grab the belt of Reid's pants hard and possessively, roughly shaking the young genius free from his thoughts. Reid gave a sharp, petrified gasp that would've probably been a yelp if there'd been any breath left in his lungs.

Leaning so close that he could smell the man's aftershave Lucas hissed into his ear. "I'm going to teach you the rules of this game, Pretty boy. And it looks like I have to do it the hard way."

Reid emitted a tiny whimper that immediately made him feel pathetic and useless when Lucas' determined, experienced hand went on with its investigations. His eyes were still wide and most likely filled with tears as he stared directly at Lucas, with his gaze begging until the very last moment. He fought as hard as he could with one of Lucas' hands still squashing his throat, but he was no match against the taller, bigger man who was filled with something no adrenaline could match.

_PLEASE!_

But it was too late. Had been from the start.

Reid squeezed his eyes tightly shut as his pants fell and Lucas kept pressing against him. He'd never been shaking the way he was then, not even in the aftermath of the hell Tobias Hankle put him through.

At the moment Reid would've given anything – _anything_ – if he'd been able to scream. But all that came from his wide open mouth was a wheeze.

Neither of them had the chance to notice that in the pocket of the recently cast away pants Reid's cell-phone was ringing, with Morgan's name flashing on the screen.

* * *

Reid had absolutely no idea how much time had passed as he sat on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. He was shivering and staring straight ahead with unseeing wide eyes from which tears had dried long ago, leaving behind a dry, itchy sensation. His heart was beating furiously and blood rushed in his ears as he fought to focus on breathing.

In… Out… In… Out…

It didn't help, at all. He still felt like throwing up, like he was about to die. He could still _feel_ Lucas, and had a sickening feel he'd never be able to not to.

And here he'd thought things couldn't get much worse. In some other situation he might've snorted at the his own stupidity.

Finally regaining at least some focus Reid's eyes rose slowly, soon finding a bottle of pills that'd been abandoned before a mirror.

Sleeping pills.

Reid's thoughts began to spin.

Sleep. He really needed some sleep, didn't he? All he wanted at the moment was to close his eyes and rest for a few hours, without nightmares, thoughts or disturbances.

Didn't he deserve some rest after all the shit he'd already swallowed? It couldn't do any more harm, anyway.

Yes. It sounded like a smart idea, like the only logical thing to do. Comforted by the knowledge that something was finally making sense Spencer got up tentatively, immediately wincing at the pain that seemed to be _everywhere_. For just a second he paused, as though hesitating for some reason, before managing to coax himself into moving once more.

Reid hadn't felt as lucid in weeks – months, _years_ – as he did when taking the bottle and pouring the contents to his palm.

Once again his furiously ringing cell-phone was ignored.

* * *

TBC, no?

* * *

A/N: Oh man… (winces) Talking about 'from bad to worse'!

So… (takes a deep breath) Thoughts? Comments?** PLEASE** leave a review to let me know – by now you probably know that I LOVE hearing from you guys! (glances hopefully)

Only two more to go. Dang, this one's rolling around fast! (gawks)

I hope you'll be sticking around for the rest of the ride.

Peace out!


	4. The Beginning in the End

A/N: Heh, it looks like this story keeps rolling free of my will, sooo… Here comes the (sobs once) second last chapter!  
BUT, first of all… Thank you from the bottom of my heart for those reviews! They certainly boost my inspiration, you know? (beams, and hugs) So THANK YOU!

Oh, and before I forget! **About the voting.** (Don't think that'd slipped my mind completely!) Thank you so much for voting! Not everyone can win, but I hope the conclusion I pulled together pleases you. (glances hopeful)

Awkay… Especially considering the cliffie I left you on, I think it's high time to go on. (gulps) I hope you'll have a nice ride!

* * *

/ _The clouds are rollin´ in  
Who will watch them?  
The waves are strong  
The boat is gone  
I hope they´re swimming _/

_Little boy lost in the woods_  
_Where´s the clearing?_  
_The town is out_  
_They´re calling loud_  
_But he´s not hearing_

_It seems to me I´m always miles away_  
_Looking for my old face_

_Save me from myself_  
_I can´t relate_  
_We´re mouth to mouth_  
_And still I suffocate_  
_There´s nothing left_  
_Inside for me to break_  
_Save me from myself_

(Vertical Horizon: "Save Me From Myself")

* * *

**_CHAPTER 3: The Beginning in the End_**

* * *

Hotch was well aware that he was breaking every single speed limit as his car sped through the city, so close to slipping out of his control that in some other situation it might've scared him. He also knew perfectly that he didn't care, at all. Just this once.

His eyes were even sharper than usual as they darted briefly towards Morgan, who was hissing cusses through tightly grit teeth while throwing away his cell phone. "Still no answer?"

Morgan shook his head while focusing firmly on the road.

A deep line appeared to Hotch's forehead, giving him at least five years more of age. "How many times have you tried?"

"Five", was Morgan's curt response. And Reid always answered his phone if he could. _Always_.

Barely noticing the action Hotch kicked the gas pedal even harder, sending the car speeding madly. Neither spoke as the seemingly endless journey continued.

After a small eternity and three more missed phone calls Hotch finally parked the car outside Reid's house, his actions so rough that the vehicle screamed in protest. Giving each other identical dark looks they emerged from the car and started to walk towards the building with swift steps.

From the hallway they found two female neighbors talking. One of them was a about sixty-year-old woman who would've appeared comical in some other situation with her badly out of whack hair and wide eyes. "… then I heard all those bangs. What in the world are those two doing in there, anyway?" The neighbor wrinkled her nose before leaning towards the other woman, as though confiding. "And it wasn't the first time, either. I wonder if there was a fight…?"

The other neighbor, a very posh woman of about the same age, clicked her tongue. "I know! This house used to be so calm. I wonder if we should call the police?"

Before Hotch could stop him Morgan marched a couple of steps forth, eyes gaining a flame the team leader knew all too well. "Which floor?"

The first neighbor frowned, folding her arms. She was clearly used to picking up fights. "Why do you want to know?"

Hotch showed the women his badge. "It may be one of our own up there. So which floor?"

Both women blanched. In a few moments the second one first squeezed her lips to a thin line, then spoke. "Third."

As the two of them dashed forward Hotch could faintly hear the ladies talking. "About time someone does something about this. It's been going on too long…"

Perhaps he was letting this all get to him. But at those words Hotch felt very unpleasant, hot tingling inside his veins.

* * *

Morgan's head barely functioned as he sped over a stair after another, his mind storming forth a million miles per hour.

It was definitely one of the most infuriating and frightening things he'd ever faced, to run so desperately when he didn't have the slightest clue if they were already too late. If they'd wasted too much time.

And then – so fast that his head couldn't quite keep up – they were stood behind the correct door. Neither was surprised to discover that it was firmly locked.

"Let me take care of that", Morgan half-barked. This, at least, was something he knew how to deal with.

He worked on the lock for a few moments before the door gave a click of surrender and slid open. Hotch gave him a strange look but didn't say anything. As they entered the apartment neither noticed that they had hands on their guns. What they found inside made Morgan's blood turn ice cold.

The apartment was a mess. Several items, including books and furniture, had been thrown all over the place like during a struggle. And on one wall and the floor below it there were blood stains.

Morgan felt the beating of his heart turn far too abrupt as he took in the sight. "Fuck…", was absolutely all he managed to produce.

And that was when they heard the sound of someone falling down.

In a flash they were moving towards the bathroom, which turned out to be the one untouched room in the apartment – and saw Reid lay on the floor. Although it sickened them they couldn't help noticing that there was some blood staining the brunet's pants. Reid's eyes were closed, several nasty bruises much too visible against his deathly pale skin. The young man wasn't moving at all. And on the floor beside him lay a half-empty bottle of sleeping pills.

Panic struck all the way through Morgan like a bolt of lightning. And then he was moving once more. He hurt his knees with how heavily he fell to the brunet's side. "Reid?" There was no response whatsoever, and Morgan felt like a rope had been wrapped around his neck. It took a lot of him to be able to croak out. "Hey, Pretty Boy, can you hear me? Spencer!"

How many fucking pills had Reid taken? How long ago? Was he…?

Morgan swallowed thickly, staring at the far too lifeless body of one of their strange family's members. He discovered that his heart was beating madly, much too fast, as he reached out a slightly trembling hand to Reid's neck. He wanted to cry out, perhaps even did.

The beat was still there. Reid's breathing didn't sound right but at the moment all that mattered was that it was there. _The life_ was there, hanging on stubbornly.

"He's alive." Was that… his voice? Even he could barely hear it. "He's alive, Hotch. But… I don't know how bad his condition is." He was no doctor. How the hell was he supposed to know?

Reid would've known every medical fact in a heartbeat.

Not saying a thing Hotch took his cell phone and dialed numbers. Morgan couldn't focus on a word as the older man's tight, delicately controlled voice told the operator to send an ambulance and inform the police.

They were at a crime scene, after all. The thought sickened Morgan enough to bring a bitter taste into his mouth.

He found himself squeezing Reid's wrist tightly, desperately. Like the faint, racing pulsation under his fingers had been the soul thing convincing the younger man was still there.

One… Two… Three… Four… So fast he had trouble counting, especially in his current state of mind.

"Morgan." In some other situation the look on Hotch's face might've startled or worried him. "The police and ambulance just arrived, I have to go and see them here. Stay with Reid."

Morgan nodded sharply. He had no intention of leaving now. Reid had been alone long enough.

Hotch might've said something more before leaving with slow, reluctant steps, but Morgan heard none of it. All his focus was on Reid, on the pulse.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six…

The nightmare wouldn't end.

* * *

Most people would've been terrified by the look that lingered in Hotch's eyes as he walked out of the building. What he found was two police-officers.

And Lucas Reichton stood between them.

It was a surprise, really, that his steps were unwavering as he walked towards the monster who'd made Reid's life a living hell for who knows how long.

The man's eyes narrowed at him. "Are you seriously going to do this to me – send me behind bars? _None_ of you cared before!"

Hotch grit teeth, so hard it hurt. "You'll never lay a hand on Reid again. I'll make sure you'll never even see him again. This is over now."

There was a long silence as they measured up one another. "I loved him, you know? I still do." There was a look in Lucas' eyes he just couldn't read. "And I know he loves me, too. Love's strange that way. There's nothing you FBI-people can do about that."

Hotch's hand twitched so badly it _hurt_, and the boiling inside his body was almost enough to drive him insane. He knew, with far too much certainty, that his famous self-control wouldn't hold much longer, not with those eyes looking back at him.

Hotch's fist balled – but fortunately that was the furthest he got.

One of the officers – a large, white man with Morgan's body type – pulled Lucas so hard the man almost fell down. "Okay, wiseguy." The man didn't bother even trying to hide his emotions. "Let's go."

Hotch watched in some sort of a numbed state as two officers dragged Lucas away. Once more the man glanced towards the windows behind which he and Reid had lived not too long ago, his expression unreadable. And then the man was pushed into a police car and he disappeared, like he'd never even been there.

It wasn't until then Hotch realized that this was all actually happening. That Lucas, the son of a bitch, had done this. The Reid was in the bathroom with Morgan. That Reid could…

To most Hotch was a man who never showed emotions. But at the moment even he couldn't hold back.

With a deep, shuddering breath he buried his face into one hand and slid down to the stony steps that led into the building. He remained that way for exactly eight seconds before his face tightened and he straightened his form, then followed the two medics with a stony expression as they dashed into the house.

* * *

There were days when Dr. Prue Thompson really hated her job. That night, in which she'd been destined to be on call, turned out to be one of them.

Because as she barged through the ER to meet a badly beaten young male-patient who'd afterwards OD'd on sleeping pills she saw Reid.

"What the hell happened?" slipped through her lips before she could control herself.

A young male-nurse who was in the process of examining Reid gave her a dark look. "Domestic violence. The bastard's been taken to custody. He left us with this." Figuring that she probably wasn't in the condition to say a thing the nurse went on. "Lots of bruises, a couple of cracked ribs. No major internal damage, but he'll definitely be sore as hell when he wakes up. The pills he's taken are the biggest problem. His oxygen saturation is 94 right now, but it's improving. His body is trying to fight, hard."

She nodded, fighting to keep her expression under control and failing. "Then we help him." She inhaled through her nose while starting to type on her laptop. "You know how this goes. Have his stomach pumped, then put him on IV. His saturation is still low so give him oxygen and monitor his breathing carefully. As soon as he's stable enough send him upstairs. Tell them to keep monitoring him."

"Dr. Thompson." Another nurse – a very young woman with a shock colored Mohawk who'd also been treating Reid – spoke all of a sudden. There was a look of shock and disgust in the woman's green eyes as they stared at the young man's lower parts.

At the moment Dr. Thompson would've given almost anything if she'd been allowed to scream curses. Although it was the last thing she wanted to do she walked up to see what the nurse had discovered from Reid's most private parts. The damage she found made her want to throw up. This was definitely one of the worst cases she'd ever seen – there was still a hint of bleeding.

_That fucking son of a bitch…!_

It took a long time before she was able to speak. "Get a rape kit", she ordered in a hiss.

"Doctor." A female nurse she'd never seen before was stood a few steps away with a somewhat tentative look on her face. "Dr. Reid… His team's here, asking for him."

Yes. Some days Dr. Thompson really hated her job – like today. She took a deep breath but it didn't help any. "I'll come and talk to them."

* * *

Considering that the whole group – their entire family – was gathered to the hospital's waiting room it was eerily quiet. The only sounds came from their breathing and Morgan's pacing.

JJ and Garcia shared a long bench, and were currently staring straight ahead with suspiciously moist eyes. Prentiss, on the other hand, was sitting on a bench of her own, glaring daggers at the wall. Hotch and Rossi were staring out the window with unseeing eyes, arms folded, while Morgan paced like a caged tiger. Some other day it might've amused them how utterly lost they looked.

They were supposed to be profilers, experts on the tricks of a human mind. But still they'd let _this_ happen to one of their own – they'd failed to see what was right before their noses. They'd failed Reid.

"He'll be okay." It'd been such a long time from when one of them had last spoken that Garcia's nearly whispering voice made them shiver. Her eyes were wide and moist behind her glasses as she looked around, searching for reassurance. "He'll make it through this, right? I mean… This is _Reid_ we're dealing with."

Words failed the group. Unable to do anything else JJ took Garcia's hand into hers and squeezed faintly. With her other hand she wiped her cheeks.

A tremor ran through the room as they saw Dr. Thompson entering. The doctor appeared tired and solemn, but she was able to look directly at them. That tiny gesture gave them enough hope to help them stand up.

"How is he?" Morgan was the first one to demand.

Dr. Thompson breathed in deeply. "He's… been through a lot. It'll take time before his body recovers, but he should be fine physically. As for the psychological part…" She swallowed, hard. "I was forced to send him to the psychiatric ward."

That hit them, _hard_. "What?" Prentiss managed.

Morgan's eyes flashed. "You can't…!"

"I'm aware of his background", Dr. Thompson interrupted him, her voice firm. "But whether it was conscious or not, Spencer did almost kill himself. Plus he has a huge emotional load to work on. He needs help."

Once again silence fell into the room as the team absorbed the information.

In the end JJ broke the silence. "Can we see him?"

Dr. Thompson's eyes softened a little. "As soon as he's stable enough. But only one visitor at a time – I don't want you to cause him even more stress than he's in already." Just then her pager started to beep loudly. She gave it a look before focusing on them. "I have to go. But I'll send someone to tell you when it's okay to visit him." With a look that clearly said 'Hang in there' the doctor left.

Once again it was quiet – _too_ quiet. This time Hotch broke it. "You should all go home and get some rest."

Prentiss immediately shook her head, her eyes flashing. "We're not going anywhere."

Hotch's jaw tightened with effort to control what was swirling inside his head. "We have that new case to work on. So rest, and prepare for that."

A look of disbelief rose to Morgan's face. "Are you seriously expecting us to start working on a case _now_?"

"Yes." It was a surprise that his voice was relatively steady. "Because it's the pretty much only thing we can do something about now." He went on after catching his breath. "One of us can stay here while the rest of us go to Baltimore and keep us posted on Reid's condition. I'll stay with here for tonight."

The team didn't like it, especially with how painfully close to home the newest case hit, but they were forced to admit that he was right. There wasn't anything they could do for Reid anymore, was there, they mused bitterly.

"I'll stay", Morgan announced sharply after a while. The look in the man's eyes left nothing to be questioned.

They didn't have anything to object that, especially when they had a feeling that Morgan wouldn't have stayed away anyway. And perhaps it was good that Reid had someone who understood, at least a little bit, around him.

In a moment the others left after making Hotch swear Hotch would keep them posted on Reid's condition.

Turning around Hotch frowned when seeing that JJ was still there.

"I… I can't go home yet", she explained, her voice breaking slightly. She took a deep, brave breath. "It's my fault that things got this far, okay? If I'd reacted, back then…" She swallowed thickly. "So… I'm not going home."

Hotch understood, better than well. And so he headed towards the door. "I'll go and get us some coffee."

* * *

Two hours later a nurse finally came in, telling JJ and Hotch that they could go and see Reid. Out of silent agreement JJ took the first shift, although she wasn't entirely sure if she was ready to face this all just yet.

Once entering Reid's room she found her will faltering. Yet again her eyes stung, hellishly.

Reid had always been pale, but never as much as he was that night. Every single bruise seemed to glow on his skin, causing a twinge inside her. He looked unbelievably small, fragile and young in the ridiculously big hospital bed, hooked on a IV and heart-monitor. What startled JJ the most, however, was how utterly motionless the brunet was. Reid was _never_ still.

For the longest time JJ didn't know what to do, how to proceed. But in the end she took a deep breath, then walked up to the bed a slumped to the chair someone had been considerate enough to leave there. Without noticing it she grabbed Reid's hand and squeezed, careful not to disturb the IV attached to the milky skin.

"I… I know I messed up", she whispered, wondering if he could even her at all. She sobbed dryly, once, twice. "But… I'm here now, Spence. I'm right here. You're not alone."

Reid didn't give any response. The stinging in JJ's eyes intensified.

Time wandered on as she sat there, guarding his drug-induced sleep and fighting with her all to control the storm blowing inside her.

She didn't let go of his hand for even a second, not anymore.

* * *

Almost two more hours slipped by until Hotch entered Reid's room to find JJ still sitting by the younger man's bedside, holding the genius' hand in a tight, protective hold. Her eyes were tired, red and puffy, but she appeared determined.

Hotch made his presence known with closing the door and stood absolutely still for a fleeting second. It was a long time from when he'd last felt as helpless and furious with himself as he did when turning and looking at his youngest team member. Even in his sleep Reid was frowning, as though in pain or discomfort. "How is he doing?" he inquired somewhat gruffly.

JJ's shoulders slumped, and she seemed to come close to biting her lip. Miraculously enough she managed to keep her expression even. "He's… knocked out most of the time. He woke up a couple of times and got really restless, so they gave him some sedatives to make sure he won't hurt himself. They had to be careful, though."

Hotch nodded, not coming up with anything to say that would've made any difference. He then breathed, managing to regain some focus. "JJ, go home." He went on before she could protest. "Henry needs you, and the team has a new case to work on. Besides, you need rest. So go home. I'll call if something happens."

For a while JJ appeared reluctant until she nodded slowly. Once more she looked towards Reid, searching for something Hotch had no idea of. Based on her expression she never found it. She left the room without daring to look back.

As soon as he was alone Hotch strayed to his gloomy thoughts.

He'd had a chance to talk to Dr. Thompson earlier. According to her Reid's injuries suggested that he'd suffered from the abuse for a long time. There were old injuries that were clearly the result of violence, like a broken arm (Hotch remembered a "_I'll manage. It's not broken or anything_" from a year ago) and a broken leg ("_That was the first and last time I tried ice-skating_" from a winter two years ago echoed in Hotch's head). "_Fractures like those don't happen in mere accidents_", Dr. Thompson had pointed out. In additition to the worst, Reid had been punched, kicked and strangled, to the point where his windpipe had almost been damaged. The doctor had said quite bluntly that Reid was very, very lucky to be alive.

How long had Reid been tortured – months, years? What the hell had that asshole said and done to him? And how were they ever going to fix the damage?

Hotch wasn't entirely sure how long he stood there, lingering in his thoughts, until a barely audible whimper cut his thoughts. Looking to side he discovered that Reid was close to waking up. The younger man's face carried the unmistakable expression of terror as he fought something no one else could see.

Quickly making up his mind he took a couple of steps closer to the bed. "Reid." Another whimper was the only response he got. "Reid, wake up. Open your eyes."

Rapidly, so unexpectedly that it almost startled him, Reid's eyes flew wide open. They were filled with haze and terror, and Hotch was sure that for the longest time the young genius didn't see him there.

Hotch tried his best to keep his voice calm and controlled, but several undertones slipped in before he could stop them. "He's not going to hurt you anymore, ever again." He contemplated bringing a hand to the brunet's shoulder – just to make sure that the younger man actually heard him – but then decided against it. His mere prensence was already enough to make Reid's muscles so stiff that the man was trembling a little. He couldn't even imagine what an actual touch would do. "You're safe now."

Very slowly Reid turned his head, just enough to be looking at him. "Thanks", the youngest member of his team whispered breathlessly. But once again those eyes – so very poor at hiding anything – spoke the truth.

Reid didn't believe him, at all. And Hotch had a sinking feeling that it'd take a long time before the genius would believe in anything or anyone.

Several minutes passed in silence, and Hotch thought Reid had finally fallen asleep until the younger man's hoarse voice spoke. "The others…" The brunet licked his lips and ran a badly trembling hand through his hair, not looking his way. "Do they… know?"

Hotch felt a painful tug in his chest. Tonight Reid had already been stripped of all his dignity. This was all _too much_. "Some of it. And they're guessing most of the rest", he replied quietly, watching as a million emotions crossed Reid's eyes in a matter of seconds. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second before continuing. "Reid… I'm sorry, that we let things get this far. That we didn't see…" He didn't find it from him to say the rest, and he didn't think Reid would've been ready to hear it being said out loud.

Appearing surprised, Reid finally looked towards him properly. It was heartbreaking to see all the emotions on the man's battered, bruised face. The brunet's mouth opened, but in the end the words refused to come. Perhaps they weren't even needed.

They were both too exhausted and emotionally drained to continue the conversation, so they lapsed into a silence. Both stared at the window without really seeing, their vacant stares observing as raindrops crawled across the glass.

* * *

The nex time Reid woke up to the pleasant scent of coffee. For a moment he managed to fool himself into thinking he was home until the truth caught up with him, fast and brutally.

He groaned while bringing a hand to his eyes. Somewhere in the distance a very irritating beeping sound intensified, clearly alerted by his activities.

"Hey." In a flash Reid recognized Morgan's voice. It was a struggle, but eventually he managed to coax his eyes halfway open. The look on Morgan's face seemed out of place. "'Bout time you wake up. You've been sleeping for half a day." Reid didn't like the worry and something else that lingered in those eyes as they examined him. "Are you okay?"

Reid tried his very hardest to smile at least a little bit, to assure them both that everything was going to work out. He wasn't sure if the look on his face was closer to a grimace. He licked his lips and rubbed his face with one hand, wincing as the IV he was stuck on protested against the motion. "What… time is it?" Like that would've mattered at all.

Morgan appeared surprised for a second, then shrugged. "Around four in the afternoon." The man then came to think of something, clearly eager to have something to work on. "I can sweet talk the nurses to give you books, food or something."

Reid shook his head rapidly and brought one hand gently to his stomach, which was squirming uncomfortably at the mere thought of food. At the moment he didn't think he'd ever be able to digest anything solid. "No thanks", he muttered.

With a sideways glance Reid saw Morgan's hand approach him, and free of his will all his muscles grew stiff. He was beyond grateful that the other man obviously noticed his discomfort and the hand landed to the bedside, a safe distance from him.

For a tiny, bitter moment Reid wondered if he'd ever be comfortable with anyone touching him again.

"Reid." Morgan's voice was so solemn that it claimed all his attention. The man's expression was softer than he'd expected. "I know you've got a lot on your mind right now. And trust me, it's much easier if you don't try to deal with it all alone."

Reid grit his teeth. And for a long time it wasn't Morgan he saw before him. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"I know you're not ready yet, kid." Morgan's eyes were serious and sincere, which surprised him to silence. "But, when you are… So am I."

For quite a while Reid didn't know what to say, how to react. But in the end he nodded, relaxing slightly in the bed.

"You can sleep, you now?" Morgan's voice startled him a little, as though he'd forgotten the man was there. The dark-skinned man showed him a sports magazine. "I've got this to keep me company for a while. So you get some rest."

Reid shook his head, resisted the urge to look away. "Nah, I… I think I've had enough sleep for a while." Truthfully, he didn't think he'd be able to take another nightmare, another glimpse of… "I'll just lay down." Like he'd had much choice.

Morgan shrugged, appearing uncharacteristically uncertain for a moment. "Okay."

Out of mutual unspoken agreement they both took more comfortable positions. For a while Reid observed as the older man read, clearly too distracted by other thoughts to actually focus on the magazine. Every now and then those dark eyes flickered his way, as though to make sure that he was really there. Then, with a tiny sigh that didn't really have any meaning, Reid turned his gaze towards the window. He blinked twice.

Outside the sun was shining.

* * *

TBC, for an epilogue.

* * *

A/N: How's that for a hint of hope?

(Heh, perhaps I'm a hopeless sap, but this chapter got me a bit emotional. No tears or anything, but still.) (grins sheepishly)

Soooo… Now that we've only got the epilogue to go… Thoughts? Opinions? **PLEASE**, do leave a note - it's more rewarding than you could ever imagine to hear your thoughts!

Awkay, because it's getting pretty late I have to head towards bed. (pouts)

Until the epilogue, folks! I REALLY hope I'll see ya all there.

Take care!


	5. Epilogue

A/N: WOAH! (blinks several times) It always feels surreal to finish a story. This story's been an amazing ride!

BUT, before wrapping this one up… Thank you so much for all those reviews! (HUGS) As I've said, I LOVE hearing from you guys. So THANK YOU! It's been a huge joy writing to you guys, ya know? (hugs again)

Awkay, because I don't think any of you came here for my ramble-notes… Let's rock on! I TRULY hope you'll enjoy this last bit. (gulps)

**

* * *

**

**_Epilogue_**

* * *

In the end Reid spent three weeks in the hospital, more out of psychiatric reasons than anything else. He was smart enough to lead all doctors trying to assess his state of mind astray. But his team knew him well enough to be able to keep Dr. Prue Thompson posted on his _real_ condition.

The first ten days were a confusing haze to him, and later even Reid's eidetic memory couldn't grasp on pretty much a thing of that time. The next eight days, however, were the worst part. Nightmares sneaked in as soon as shock faded, trying to fill his mind even when he was awake. Panic-attacks and intense episodes of nausea struck so often that in the end Reid didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed when Morgan rubbed his back wordlessly as he threw up. By the end of day fourteen Reid had stopped talking almost completely. Throughout that time the team kept a close eye on him, barely dearing to leave him alone for even a second. And then, inevitably, started the process of recovery. Reid started talking once more, and the team was pleased to discover that he didn't shudder every time someone walked into the room anymore. He started eating, only a little but still, and gradually the bruises on his body healed. He still wouldn't talk a word about what'd happened or cried, but they were all too sure that the time for those would come later. Exactly fifteen hours before Reid was discharged happened something unexpected.

One of the nurses turned down Morgan's eager advances with a far from flattering glare and roll of eyes. And for the first time in ages Reid smiled freely – only a little bit, but still.

Hope was restored. Perhaps they hadn't lost their young genius, after all.

Sitting in Morgan's car that early morning of late autumn, Reid realized that every single muscle in his body was utterly stiff as the older man pulled off before the building in which he lived.

It wasn't until then he realized that he'd never really prepared himself for the thought of actually going home. He wondered quite seriously if he'd even get himself hauled out of the vehicle.

Morgan, easily spotting his humiliatingly apparent discomfort, gave him a look. "'You alright, kid?"

He nodded, but it came out stiffly. "I'm just… I'm trying to convince my body the same."

It was Morgan's turn to nod. Reid was relived the man kept his silence.

They sat there for almost ten minutes until Reid took a deep breath, feeling his stubborn muscles giving in. Around then he realized that he'd been so tense his body hurt. His mouth moved almost mechanically as he climbed slowly out of the car. "2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29…"

He didn't know he was talking out loud until Morgan glanced towards him. "What are those numbers about?"

Reid looked away, mildly embarrassed. "Prime numbers. They… help me calm down." He then looked towards the building like it'd been an obstacle to conquer. "We… can go inside, now."

Morgan nodded, appearing a bit more serious than Reid would've liked. Slowly yet steadily they began to make their way towards the building's doors. In the hallway Reid spotted two elderly women, his neighbors, who were all but staring at him with expressions that revealed they knew too much. Reid forced himself to nod at them before looking away, the situation becoming nearly overwhelming.

(If he'd glanced towards Morgan, he would've seen the death-glares the larger man gave the women.)

And then, before Reid could ever prepare himself for it properly, they were stood behind the door of his apartment. His heart was racing and he was fairly sure his blood pressure wasn't even close to what any doctor would've been happy with.

"Look, Reid… You don't have to do this yet." Morgan's tone was almost gentle, although it gave out the swirling in the other man's mind. Even after the time passed the dark-skinned man was still _angry_. "You can spend the night at my place. You don't have to face this now."

To even his own surprise Reid shook his head. For he knew, with a depressing amount of certainty, that if he wouldn't do this now he'd never walk into the apartment again.

And then, with a deep breath that suggested he was preparing for a dive, he turned the key and pushed the door open. In an instant the sight – all those familiar things, his _and_ Lucas' things – and the scent of Lucas hit him right at his face. Memories flowed through his head like some sickening movie.

"Reid." There was a hint of urgency in Morgan's voice as the man laid a hand to his shoulder. "Kid, breathe. Focus on breathing."

Reid blinked twice. Odd. He hadn't even noticed he'd stopped breathing at some point.

"That's better", Morgan stated in a strange tone Reid couldn't remember hearing ever before. The man pulled his hand away from his shoulder, most likely deciding that any longer physical contact would've been pushing it. "It's already pretty late. Maybe we should just go to bed."

Reid's eyebrow arched. "'We'?"

Morgan gave him a loudly speaking look. "I'm not going to leave you here alone on your first night, okay?" The man then attempted to grin. "Don't worry – you won't even know I'm around."

Reid didn't find it from him to protest. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn't all that excited about the idea of being alone in the apartment. "You can have the bed", he stated after a moment, his voice stiff. He couldn't bring himself to look towards the bedroom. "I'm taking the couch."

Morgan nodded, clearly understanding.

That night was pure hell. Reid kept having intense nightmares and woke up five times, screaming so loudly that he probably woke up several of his neighbors. They barely got even three hours of sleep. But they made it through. And in the morning they rewarded themselves with a gallon of sickeningly strong coffee.

* * *

Although he'd been bullied mercilessly Reid had never been terrified of going to school. He hadn't enjoyed it, of course, but he'd never been afraid. That's why it was almost amusing that he _was_ almost scared as he sat in his car outside the building where he'd been working for years.

He'd been away for almost four months, and would've been even longer if he hadn't managed to talk those in charge over the matter until the point of exhaustion. How much had things changed? How much had _he_ changed – too much for this to feel natural?

He jumped a bit and almost squeaked when there was a knock on the window of his car. His eyes darting swiftly to side he found Garcia, who was looking at him with a small grin.

Giving a tiny wave of acknowledgement he opened the car's door. "Hey."

"You're not gonna sit there all day, are you?" she inquired, shivering in February's breeze. "It's freezing out here."

His expression falling Reid found himself looking towards the building. Its doors had never seemed so far off.

His body jolted slightly when Garcia's hand was suddenly held out for him. "C'mon." There was no pity in her eyes – only warmth and unconditional caring that made him feel warm all over. "I'll lead the way. I'm not leaving you to freeze to death."

Reid spent longer than he'd expected debuting accepting her offer. But in the end he reached out his hand and took hers. Her grin from before widening she pulled him up and out of the vehicle.

Once they were inside, in the very familiar environment, Reid was stunned to discover how very little had changed in the end.

It was… almost like coming back home. It seemed like the whole team was out somewhere, but every single desk and the piles of files on them were still in place. Like no time had passed.

He found himself tensing slightly when JJ suddenly emerged from her office and saw him. For a couple of moments she looked at him as though not really believing he was there, then smiled warmly. Reid found himself returning the gesture.

"Hey – look who's back!" Morgan's voice startled him a little. Looking to side he found the man stood by the doorway of the conference room. "What are you waiting for? We've got a new case to start working on."

Feeling even warmer than before Reid nodded and took a step forward.

And for the first time since the whole nightmare began Reid found himself believing that perhaps things getting back to normal was possible.

* * *

Almost a full year passed, and slowly yet surely life became at least relatively normal – apart from certain details. As far as the members of his team knew Reid still wouldn't sleep in the bedroom of his apartment. And the haunted look that kept appearing to the genius' eyes when he thought no one was looking was almost enough to break their hearts. In silence the rest of the team wondered what'd happen the inevitably approaching day when Reid would once again hear Lucas Reichton's name.

That rainy afternoon of autumn they found out. Because five past two Reid's cell-phone started ringing.

The others knew in an instant that something was wrong as they observed the expressions dancing on Reid's face – shock, rage, terror, grief and revulsion could all be seen in a short amount of time. In a few moments the phone slipped from Reid's hand, sliding surprisingly softly to the man's desk. And in a flash the brunet had bolted up and dashed away.

"I'll go after him", Morgan announced immediately, moving before the others could say a word.

Reid, as it turned out, was _fast_. But in the end Morgan found him from one of the furthest, most isolated corners of the building, leaning heavily against the thick window glass. The brunet's eyes were nearly glazed over as he stared at the rain raging outside, appearing ready to throw up any given moment.

Reid… looked ready to crack, right there and then.

Morgan frowned and approached cautiously, until he was stood only a few steps away. "Reid? What's up?" There was no response, not a single sign that Reid would've even known he was there. Morgan took a deep breath and tried again. "Reid, what the hell is going on?" What the heck was the phone call about?

Reid's eyes were wide and dangerously moist when the younger man looked straight at him. "He's… He's dead. Lucas is dead – another prisoner stabbed him." The brunet's breath wheezed a little as the man struggled to breathe, so hard it showed. "They… They said he had HIV."

For the longest time Morgan couldn't do anything but stare at Reid, those words crossing his level of understanding. But as they finally sunk in he felt so much that he feared he wouldn't be able to keep himself from exploding.

_That son of a bitch…!_

But then, in a blink, all his anger disappeared. Because as he looked at Reid he noticed that the man's whole body was quaking, and the tears that shimmered in the genius' eyes were sliding down the man's cheeks without any control. Realizing what was happening and trying to stop it Reid shook, time after time, trying to wipe his cheeks with a trembling hand. But nothing helped.

For the first time since the hell he'd been through Spencer Reid was crying.

For a while Morgan had no idea what to do – he'd never been exactly fluent in situations like this. In the end he chose the one thing that felt most against his nature.

Without saying a word he wrapped his arms around Reid and pulled the younger man slightly closer. At first Reid stiffened, but then the emotions took over once more and the brunet kept shaking against him.

Neither noticed that it stopped raining outside as they stood there for the longest time, waiting for a storm of other kind to pass.

* * *

Eight more months passed by, and for once things seemed to be moving on. After going through tests Reid discovered to his utter relief that Lucas hadn't managed to give him HIV. Although they didn't disappear the nightmares lessened and there were days when Reid didn't appear exhausted when coming to work. And little by little the shadows left Reid's eyes.

That rather quiet day the rest of the team discovered easily that there was something on Reid's mind. Had been for a couple of weeks, actually. But for the time being they decided not to press the matter. Because for the first time in ages they'd managed to coax Reid out with them, to a Chinese restaurant no less. They stiffled chuckles when he immediately asked for a fork. For the first time in ages the genius was rambling facts and statistics, his eyes were _alive_.

JJ's whole expression softened as she observed the sight before her, half-whispering to Hotch so that the rest of the team couldn't hear. "It feels so good to see that, doesn't it?"

Hotch nodded. "It seems familiar."

Looking towards the chief JJ found it hard to hold back a chuckle. "You're smiling, aren't you?"

Hotch didn't say anything to that, only took another sip of water. But the man's expression spoke loudly enough.

In the end most of the team had to leave. JJ got a call saying Henry had started throwing up, and Jack's babysitter also couldn't wait any longer. Prentiss, after immense pressuring, finally gave in and admitted that she had a date to go to, which was why she checked the time twenty times in five minutes. Rossi also left, and they teased him for being too old to be able to keep up with their pace. Garcia headed to the restroom.

It wasn't until he was alone with Reid Morgan chose to grab the bull by the horns. "So… What's up?" He discovered that the younger man seemed to be deeply interested in his cell phone. His eyebrow bounced up. "What's so captivating?"

Probably not paying much mind to Morgan's words Reid shook his head, finally ripping his gaze from the phone. Several emotions from excitement and fright to embarrassment could be seen in the brunet's face. "Actually… I've been thinking about moving, for a while now. And… I just found out I got an apartment."

At first Morgan stared, as though not quite catching on. But then he found it hard to hold back a smile. "You know what?" Taking the opportunity he used his chopsticks to steal a slice of chicken from Reid's plate. "Moving out of that place sounds like a good idea, Pretty Boy." It wasn't until several moments later he caught his slip – that name had been strictly forbidden since _those_ events. He looked towards Reid, searching for any signs indicating he'd done damage, and felt like smiling again. It looked like young genius hadn't even noticed.

In fact, Reid seemed to be grinning while stealing his food in return with his fork.

* * *

Eventually it was five years from the hell – from the punches, Lucas, _everything_. And gradually time worked its magic. It healed, to at least some extend.

It was a rather late evening when Morgan lifted his gaze and arched an eyebrow. Not all that far away Reid was working quite restlessly with his hair and pacing around. It was around then he observed that there was also something strange about the brunet's wardrobe. Black jeans, a red shirt the neckline of which revealed a hint of skin, a long black jacket – such pieces of garment Reid would've _never_ picked on daily basis. That combined with how fidgety, close to scared, the younger man was… It was almost like…

"Kid?" he called out, his voice filled with curiosity, amusement and some alarm. "Are you… going out on a date?"

Reid appeared embarrassed when glancing towards him and fiddling with his clothing. "I'm… not sure about this outfit. I can't believe I let Garcia talk me into wearing these."

"Geez, Reid", Prentiss – who'd also been eyeing on the events – huffed. "Trust me, there's nothing wrong with your outfit." By then it was clear to everyone that they weren't talking just about clothing. '_Relax. It'll go fine_', her eyes promised.

It wasn't until around then they realized that JJ had also showed up from seemingly out of nowhere. She frowned, taking a step closer. "Hold still." Reid tensed up but didn't flinch away when she worked on the collar of his shirt for a while, smoothening it gently. She then nodded, pleased. "Now it's perfect", she declared.

Reid's eyes softened. "Thanks." He then headed towards the door, giving them a wave. "See you tomorrow, guys."

Just before he was out Reid almost ran into Hotch. The man's expression was even more solemn than usual. "I'll have my phone on. Just in case", the man announced, so quietly that the others couldn't hear.

In some other situation Reid might've been uncomfortable with the fact that _everyone_ seemed to know he was actually going out for the first time since _then_. But as it was he nodded, slightly more serious than before, then walked out. Hotch clearly worked his hardest to walk to the others without looking back.

Rossi looked at the others' worried faces with mild amusement, although he was also feeling a hint of restlessness. "He'll be fine, you know?"

"Yeah, we know." Morgan's voice was deviously calm as he took his jacket and began to pull it on. "And in case he won't be… Garcia managed to trace his date. I know exactly who I'd have to beat up." Anyone could tell he wasn't joking.

They were all equally stunned when Hotch was the one to nod, his facial muscles relaxing slightly. "Good."

Outside moon shone on the city that was slowly falling asleep. The night was calm.

* * *

"_Survival is nothing more than recovery._"

Dianne Feinstein

* * *

**_End._**

* * *

A/N: (gawks) I seriously can't believe this story is already over. (pouts) I'll definitely miss this, despite the harsh elements!

**PLEASE**, do leave a comment on your thoughts about this epilogue and the story in whole! Especially now that this is finished I'd really, REALLY like to hear your thoughts on this lil' baby of mine. So… Pwease…? I've got some chocolate-chip cookies to coax you with…

THANK YOU, from the depths of my heart and soul, for reading, reviewing and listing this story! If it wasn't for you guys this story would've NEVER been finished. This is my second finished 'CM' story, and because of you guys I'm planning on posting several more. (grins) So thank you – you guys ROCK!

Once more, thank you! And all the very best!

Perhaps I'll see you guys around one day!


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